18 Weeks
by dearmad
Summary: Post S1 finale. Tommy knows how to handle Lindy's absence. Kind of.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: I just needed to get this out of my system and it might stay a one-shot (not sure yet). I don't have a beta and it's been years since I wrote a fanfic so apologies for crappy quality.**

It starts with a knock on the door and a pizza box.

The first time he comes over is about two days after Sophia's released from the hospital. He finds her on the living room's couch wrapped in fluffy blankets, surrounded by abnormal amount of pillows with Connor dutifully by her side. He has genuine questions to ask and nobody finds it odd that he's there. She's patient and understanding, and he hates it. No, she doesn't know where Lindy went to. No, she hasn't contacted her since "you-know-what". She refuses to call it anything else. Almost dying from a stab wound gives her the right to say pretty much anything at the moment, so no one questions her choice of words. And it's not like any of them calls it for what it really was. George refuses to even mention it. Connor calls it "the incident". Tommy calls it "the day we closed the case". Ultimately the visit turns out to be pointless and he leaves disappointed and tired, promising himself not to bother any of them again.

He doesn't stick to that promise. Wondering what the hell he's actually doing, he finds himself once again outside their apartment, a six pack in one hand and a pizza in the other. It's been a week since his last visit. He sits awkwardly on the couch, squished between DVD boxes, a bowl of popcorn and a slightly confused George. He can hear Sophia and Connor talking in the kitchen but he has no explanations to offer; he's just as surprised by all of this as they are.

"Why is he here? Are we now hanging out with him too?" Connor isn't exactly discreet.

Tommy knows Sophia is trying to shush him and he feels his heart skip a beat when he finally hears her reply.

"He misses her, ok? Play nice".

He doesn't really care what is said afterwards. Connor's probably rightfully protesting ("It's not our job to babysit her... whatever the hell he was to her"), George is trying to make it less awkward by babbling really loudly and he feels trapped by his own decision. Leaving now would be too dramatic for his taste and would only prove how right Sophia is. Let's face it, he's not ready to admit it to himself. So he opens a bottle of beer and absent-mindedly checks the DVDs. They decide on watching something silly and while there's a certain easiness to their companionship, he stays silent the whole evening. He leaves shortly after the movie and he can almost hear their joint sigh of relief.

When he comes back the week after nobody seems surprised anymore. He decides it makes the situation even worse now. He can deal with people's annoyance or the general weirdness but he doesn't know how to handle their collective look of pity. He does know he's being pathetic. They're _her_ friends. He's in _her_ world. He surrounds himself with her things trying to keep up the illusion that there's still a trace of her in his life. He's desperate and he knows it. And what's worse, they know it too. Sophia pretends not to notice his quick glances at Lindy's bedroom door (_She's not there, you idiot. She won't magically appear just because you want her to_). George doesn't mention work or the good ol' hacking days and Connor sticks to somewhat neutral conversations ("What's with the leather jackets? Do you even own other clothes?") after a few unfortunate comments earn him a temporary ban from Sophia.

By the end of the second month it becomes a weekly routine. He drops by with a take-out and alcohol, stays a few hours and goes home. Yeager comes with him a couple of times and Connor brings a new boyfriend once. Sophia complains about the lack of bigger, better parties and George regularly pesters them about going out to "dance the night away" but mostly it ends up with the four of them staying in for a quiet dinner. It feels easy and comforting. He has his spot on the couch and he knows what to say to shut George up and what wine to bring over when Connor texts him that Sophia's in a bad mood. He fits in this world now. Nobody mentions Lindy and sometimes he wonders if it's because of him or if they genuinely try to move on.

The moment Sophia says her name out loud hits him like a lightning. It's like a forgotten sound suddenly brought back to life and for a moment he just stares at her, unable to process what she said.

"Are you listening to me, Tommy? I'm worried about Lindy".

"I'm sure she's ok," he replies automatically. He's got that phrase memorised for such occasions. Practised it so many times in hope one day he'd actually believe it.

"I know, I didn't mean it like that. I'm just worried she's not coming back to New York," Sophia says tentatively like she's afraid his entire world will turn into ruins just by hearing these words.

He nods in silence, suddenly feeling exhausted. He no longer wants to be here, in this apartment, in this living room, having this conversation but Sophia doesn't seem to be done yet.

"It's been 3 months already," she continues. "I don't know how much longer I can keep paying for this place without getting a new roommate."

He feels sick, suffocating with every word she says.

"What about her things? I don't know where to ship them. Should I store them somewhere?" Her voice is slightly trembling now.

"Sophia," he interrupts. "I don't... I mean..."

He doesn't know what to say. He looks at her pleadingly because there's no way he can admit out loud that Lindy never coming back is his biggest fear. That it keeps him up at night. That he's so close to losing his badge and his sanity because he spends his every waking moment trying to find her. He's not ready; he's not ready to let her go. (_I will never stop looking for you_).

She fixes a knowing gaze on him and just like that the conversation is over.

They never mention it again.

He's pouring Sophia a glass of wine while trying to keep up with George's seemingly endless story ("You're gonna love this one, Tommy boy!") when he hears a knock on the door.

"Tell Connor I'm still mad about Saturday!" Sophia shouts from her room, "I haven't decided if he's still invited tonight!"

George stifles a laugh and points at Tommy.

"You're the brave cop. You do it."

It's not the first time he's been in this situation and he knows exactly how it'll go. He shakes his head and gets up from the kitchen chair. The knocking is a bit louder and insistent now. He hears George laughing behind his back and Sophia reciting a string of threats when he opens the door.

It's not Connor.

She stands there with a small duffle bag and a surprised expression probably matching the one on his face. Her hair is longer now, messed by the windy New York evening and he's sure she never looked more beautiful.

It's not what he imagined and everything he hoped for at the same time. It's too little and too much. He wants to hug her and kiss her. He wants to shout at her and ask her a million questions. Where were you? What happened? Why did you never contact me? Am I forgiven? He wants to beg her never to leave him like that again. Don't go. Stay. Let me help you. Please. (_Love me back_). He doesn't know which reaction to choose, which words to say. They both stand there speechless for a moment until he leans against the door frame and crosses his arms.

"Hello, Lindy," he says quietly.

She smiles at him.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN/Thank you all for your kind reviews, they truly mean a lot to me. I had no vision beyond that first chapter so I admit I feel a bit lost. And terrified this will turn OOC and messy.**

He thanks every existing deity when Sophia and George start bombarding her with the questions he didn't have courage to ask. Lindy answers a few, dismisses most and avoids looking him in the eye. She clearly isn't ready to tell them more and after a few attempts they're too emotionally drained to continue.

They move their little reunion to the living room and a couple of wine bottles later, Lindy has her head on Sophia's shoulder and one foot on George's leg, and Tommy sits in the armchair once again feeling out of place. He almost forgot they were her friends first, that it's only because they cared about her that they (_maybe? hopefully?_) care a little about him too. He feels his presence is an unnecessary reminder of a painful past but he can't move from his seat. He's afraid she'll disappear for good the moment he leaves. So he sits there captivated; a desperate fool wishing for more. He memorises the length of her arm and the pale grey t-shirt she's wearing, her discarded sweater pooling next to the coffee table. He notices her flushed cheeks and how her lips are tinted dark red from the wine she just drank, and he aches to find out if they'd taste the same without fake relationships and old lies and creeps watching their every move. It's a torture facing her again, having her so near and he wouldn't trade it for anything.

The conversation is lighter now. Stories of the vibrant New York night-life mixed with Fat Fridays that became Fat Saturdays when Tommy had to stay late at work, take-outs and cooking catastrophes, movie marathons on the sofa, new boyfriends and tentative dates. It's a pleasant lull in all the heartbreak and he finds himself drifting from the misery of the past months to the serenity of a newfound hope.

"I gotta say I never missed New York as much as when I was stuck in my hometown," Lindy laughs.

"Wait, you were in your hometown this whole time?" Tommy is pulled from his reverie. "But I went there and—"

"You went to my hometown?" she interrupts him surprised.

Abruptly the room gets smaller, compressed in its deafening silence. He feels her eyes on him, demanding, unyielding. He has excuses on the tip of his tongue. Easy, quick lies that would make him seem less pitiful. (_Tell her. Tell her the truth_). Sophia and George exchange anxious looks.

Tommy shrugs in a desperate attempt at nonchalance but it's not working. She looks at him with such intensity that he suddenly feels very self-conscious. Like a schoolboy with a crush, trying to prove his worth.

"I wanted to find you," he admits with a sigh. "I told you I would".

She smiles softly at him, like she's reminiscing a pleasant date and not a turning point in a life threatening situation. He's burning under her gaze. He unravels.

"Lindy, you need to tell me what happened. You know I will help you," he pleads with her, his voice sounding too loud, too harsh to his ears. "Lindy, please."

He thinks he hears George mutter "awkward" under his breath but he's wasted so much time learning how to feel less that he's now drowning in raw emotions. She's here and he can get a second chance at this. They can be friends, they can be work partners, they can be whatever she wants them to be as long as he's allowed to stay in her life. He's too far gone now.

She looks unsure, doubtful even and he realises he pushed too hard. It's too soon or maybe too late? Maybe he lost his sanity and doesn't even know it. Maybe he was holding onto a figment of his imagination. Maybe she never cared about him at all.

A cheerful ringtone interrupts them and he's grateful for a momentary distraction.

Sophia fishes her phone out from underneath one of the cushions, checks the caller and replies with a quickly whispered "Lindy's back. Call you later".

By then Tommy's already up, ready to run. He's said too much and that ubiquitous feeling of unease is fully back now, prickling with every passing minute, weaving into his heart.

"I actually need to get going. Work tomorrow and all..." he excuses himself unconvincingly.

"I thought it was your day off," Sophia says with a smirk.

"Yeah, yeah. But Boris is alone and I still have a lot of catching up to do on one of our cases".

"Boris?" Lindy asks curiously.

"Boris is probably the best thing about you," George says teasingly, Lindy's question already overrode by Sophia's loud giggle. "So much more friendly!"

"Funny," Tommy rolls his eyes. He's already putting on his jacket, checking for his phone and keys. He feels translucent and he needs to leave _now_. He needs to leave before she notices his shaking hands and his clumsily glued stupid heart.

"Wait, Tommy, could we meet for a coffee tomorrow? I need to talk to you," Lindy's voice stops him halfway through the front door.

He nods and with a quick goodbye he's gone. Long steps, fast pace, he doesn't let himself look back. He only slows down at the corner of her street, his heart still racing.


	3. Chapter 3

**AN/ I feel like this isn't going in the right direction *sigh* I just want to get these two together and they're being difficult.  
**

* * *

He meets her in one of those cosy coffee shops not far from his precinct. They used to come here from time to time back when she was still working with him, when she still trusted him.

She's already there. There are papers scattered around the table and a half-eaten pancake on a plate, and it's obvious she's been here for a while now. He's worried she's still spending so much time chasing the past that she'll forget how to live in the present. He wonders if this would ever stop, this constant concern about her well-being, if this is what loving someone makes of you. He wonders if he has the same look on his face as his mother had every time his father would take that badge and that gun (_and that heart of hers_) and leave the safety of their warm, yellow kitchen to catch actual monsters. One last sip of a morning coffee, a quick kiss and a "see you tonight". And that uncertainty that would dissipate the moment he'd cross the threshold of their home, take off the heavy boots and greet them all with a smile that would never truly reach his eyes. 15 years of the same ritual. Until that one night he didn't come back and they were left with nothing but pictures on the wall and unwanted sympathy of strangers.

He's so lost in that memory he doesn't realise he's still standing at the door blocking the entry until he feels someone push past him with an annoyed "can you move, man". Lindy waves him over and when he joins her there's already a cup of coffee waiting for him.

"I ordered you one," she shrugs and he feels ridiculously thrilled by the fact she still remembers how he takes his coffee.

For a few minutes she doesn't even seem to notice his presence. She's quickly typing on her laptop, eyes glued to the screen and a small scowl on her face. He distractedly checks the breakfast menu not sure what else to do. This is a mistake in the making, him gravitating towards her so effortlessly, but he's weak, oh so weak and...

"Sorry, had to finish this", her voice jolts him back to reality.

He mutters a small "it's ok" and they both fall silent. It's frankly uncomfortable. She finally takes a deep breath and looks him straight in the eye.

"I haven't found her," she confesses.

"I know," he replies softly. "Otherwise you wouldn't be here. Right?"

She doesn't deny and his heart twists a bit at that. He knows it was ridiculous to think she might have simply wanted to see him, that she might have simply missed him but love makes him dumb and too hopeful _and he can't help it_.

It must be showing on his face because for a second she almost looks guilty. She doesn't comment though. She wordlessly turns her laptop towards him, gives him her headphones and hits play.

He's shocked and mad to say the least. He has no right to this rising anger but he's still furious on Lindy's behalf. Regardless of Sara's good intentions there must have been a better option, one that didn't include traumatising someone and destroying their whole life. (_You're the one to talk, you lying asshole._)

"I followed a few leads," she continues. "So many weeks digging out my parents' past and a month long surveillance of a guy that apparently rented out his van to Sara's boyfriend, and I still have nothing."

She's clearly frustrated and tired. He wishes he could take her away from all of this. Somewhere far, so far she'd remember there's more to her life than one loss after another. He has no right to wish that either.

"I could use a friend in high places... High places with better software," she says frankly and he's more surprised by her calling him a friend than by the fact she even asks him for help.

"What do you need?" he doesn't hesitate.

Her astonishment is obvious, she clearly didn't think it'd be this easy.

"It's not exactly legal, Tommy..."

He shrugs because apparently she didn't notice how many times he already bent the rules for her.

"Ok, I need you to check these profiles with your face recognition software and compare them to this list. I'd do it myself but you have a better equipment and... how come I didn't know you have a dog?"

Wait, what? Tommy freezes with a pile of bad quality photos she just shoved in his hand. He didn't expect such sudden change of subject.

"Well, if you must know Boris is more of a roommate that occasionally chews on your shoes and pisses on your floor."

She bursts out laughing and he gets odd satisfaction that he could get her to sound so carefree, so relaxed. He doesn't remember the last time he heard her like that. Did he ever? He has a dangerous thought of other potential sounds he would like to hear from her.

She still expects him to answer and he opts for being honest.

"We didn't exactly hang out much".

She nods pensively.

"True. We should try that some time."

He tries very hard to keep his instantaneous joy less obvious. This is the first step to repair what he so royally screwed up and he won't make the same mistake twice. Thankfully Lindy seems too lost in her thoughts to notice how eagerly he nods to her proposal.

"Do you think I'm wasting my time?" she muses. "Sara was my first priority for so long but... you can't find someone who doesn't want to be found, right?"

He can hear a smudge of fear creeping into her voice. She's terrified she's made all the wrong choices and he knows how that feels. He takes a moment to carefully put his scattered thoughts together.

"Someone once told me that we're all here trying to find something... Someone..." he trails off. "So maybe you're supposed to be looking for her. Regardless if you find her or not".

She seems impressed with his answer and he feels a bit more confident now. He can do this. He can forget his insignificant desires and simply exist next to her.

"So what are _you_ looking for?"

Who is he kidding, he can't do this.

"I'm not looking for anything. Not anymore," he replies with visible discomfort. Lindy's crossing a line he wasn't ready for her to cross this soon. He shifts in his seat and takes a sip of his now cold coffee. Anything to avoid her gaze.

"Well, one thing I definitely need to find is a new job," she jokes. "You disappear for a few months and immediately you're labelled unreliable employee."

She starts gathering her things and he figures their meeting is over. He should be happy with what he got but he can't help but being disappointed she cuts it short. He supposes it was more of a business meeting anyway and he has one more desperate proposal for her.

"You know, if you need a job you could always come back to the CCU," he suggests. (_Come back to me._)

She vehemently shakes her head at that. It's amazing how disheartening things can turn to be even when they're not exactly unexpected. He really needs to work on not being so damn hopeful.

"No, that's one chapter of my life that I need to keep closed."

Salt, meet the wound. She grabs her bag already heading out. He slowly gets up, pays their bill and follows her. She's waiting for him outside, zipping her black jacket and absently looking around, probably trying to decide on her next steps. He has nowhere to go without her.

A moment later she seems her old determined self and she leaves him standing there awkwardly, glued to the spot. He doubts she'd want him to follow, quite the contrary, but she does turn around and looks at him once again before disappearing in the crowd.

"Hey, Tommy?" she calls him and his heartbeat immediately speeds up. "In case you still have doubts, we're good."

He doesn't bother to hide his smile.


	4. Chapter 4

**I absolutely hate this chapter. I have a rough draft of everything that follows but I needed this one to link it all and it just wouldn't work. And it still doesn't but I'm too annoyed to change it again.** **Next one will hopefully be better.**

* * *

He calls Lindy every day. He can hear exasperation in her voice but she dutifully picks up her phone every single time. His fears are betraying him, he's so afraid she'll disappear again that he needs the simplest reassurance. She must be aware of it.

"Tommy, I need you to focus on what we spoke about, ok?" She finally tells him one afternoon. "I promise I'm not going anywhere."

He's too embarrassed to call her after that and for the first time in months he skips the weekly dinner as well. Work is a great excuse even though everybody sees right through it. Which is probably why he gets an unexpected visitor at the precinct; Sophia drops by with a coffee and a bag of doughnuts.

"They were out of croissants this morning," she smiles sweetly but he knows that smile. She wants him to talk, to explain himself.

Yeager conveniently leaves them alone in the hall and Tommy knows he's being set up.

"I don't really have time to talk, Sophia."

"That's not what Yeager says," she doesn't even bat an eyelash. She's on a mission. "In fact, he says you could really use a friend. So... here I am! The best listener you'll ever get!"

"Sophia, no. I'm not in the mood."

Unfortunately for him that never stopped her.

"I thought you'd be happy that she's back."

"I am. That's not the problem..."

"What is it then? Because you didn't come over for our dinner and we both know that you lied about working that evening. Which means you're avoiding her and I don't understand why."

"I'm not avoiding her, ok? I'm actually trying to help her out. I'm just..." Deep breath. "Not ready to face her right now, all right?"

"I knew it! It's dangerous, isn't it? Whatever she's been up to lately? That's why she asked for your help," she eyes him warily.

"It's... not dangerous," he lies. He completed a file for her 10 days ago and it's bad. Bad with a capital B. He doesn't know what to think of her investigating her own father. He doesn't know what to think of her investigating scumbags that make Ja... the Flirtual killer look like a mildly bothersome psycho. He doesn't want to confront her. He doesn't want her to know what he found. She'll reject his help and he'll be left alone freaking out about her safety once again.

"None of this makes sense!" She lets out a frustrated sigh. "We're all going out to dinner tomorrow night. Lindy's got a new job and we're celebrating."

"I'm not exactly invited-"

"Oh please, the doughnuts were just an excuse. She was the one who suggested I drop them off. You two are so transparent but somehow you just like to complicate everything."

"So it was her idea?"

She rolls her eyes and purposefully ignores his question.

"You better show up," she pokes him in the arm, punctuating each word and with a flirty wink at Yeager leaves him standing there feeling like a fool again. She's right. It makes no sense and he can't avoid Lindy forever. Admittedly being close to someone who doesn't love you back is a difficult exercise and he knows his feelings are past obvious. Still, it's an entire evening to spend in her company and he'll take whatever crumbs of her attention he can.

So it's really no surprise when he finds himself waiting outside a sushi place trying to casually chat with George until she arrives. When she finally does his heart flips. It's ridiculous but everything around her just fades and he feels intoxicated just by her sight. He's not even sure how he got to this point, how he embraces this trainwreck of emotions so willingly.

"I'm glad you're here," she tells him and for that alone it was all worth it.

Sophia conveniently switches places with him so he sits next to Lindy. Her thigh brushes his and everything is so casual and easy. They look like a couple. They banter like a couple. _It's not real. _She's laughing at the way he's using chopsticks and then her hand is on his, slight fingers trying to guide his.

"We should go for drinks after this," Connor suggests when the dinner is reaching its end. "Kevin wants to join us."

There's a collective groan around the table.

"You're joking, right?" Tommy says with a clear distaste.

"Honey, we really need to talk about Kevin..." Sophia chuckles.

"Still not funny," Connor is clearly annoyed.

"Ok I need to hear that story," Lindy's looking around in confusion. "Who's Kevin?"

"My boyfriend", "Connor's boytoy", "A douchebag" are the simultaneous replies.

"He joined them for dinner once. _Once_. You should have heard them afterwards," Yeager adds helpfully.

"So we graciously invited him to dinner and drinks, right?" Sophie starts the story.

"And the douchebag spent the entire evening criticising food, drinks and every one of us," Tommy grimaces.

"Let's not forget he was trying to flirt with every waiter in the restaurant and that new bartender at IRL..." George continues.

"And with Tommy!" Sophia finishes with a laugh.

Lindy turns to Tommy, a smirk firmly in place.

"Aren't you irresistible, Mr Popular!"

He's secretly pleased by her words even if she's mocking him. God, he's beyond pathetic.

Connor certainly doesn't look amused by any of it and Tommy has a weird feeling this will turn ugly in a second.

"Sorry, Connor but he does sound like a douche," Lindy tells him with a small laugh.

"Yeah, well at least he's not a serial killer," Connor instantly bites back.

They all freeze at that. All the easiness and fun of the evening immediately disappears, replaced by cold awkward silence. Tommy instinctively squeezes Lindy's hand.

"Connor!" Sophia kicks him swiftly under the table, murderous look on her face.

"Yeah, sorry. I forgot that stupid silent pact of ours," Connor replies sarcastically. "Why would we mention any of it, right? God forbids she knows what she put you through the past few months."

"Connor, that's enough," Tommy hears himself say, his hand still firmly on Lindy's.

A tiny, resentful part of him is glad someone said it out loud and he hates it. He glances at Lindy. She suddenly looks older, drained and he hates that even more.

"I'm sorry. You're right. I shouldn't have left like that," she moves her hand and grabs her glass of water. "I just wanted to keep you safe," she adds calmly.

"You sound just like Sara," Tommy can't help but mutter. He hears her drew in a quick breath. She obviously heard it.

"Sweetie, you don't owe us any explanations. Forgive and forget. And we're here to celebrate, not to dwell on the past!" Sophia's desperately trying to save the evening.

It doesn't really work and any further plans for the night seem pointless. They gather outside calling for cabs when Lindy tugs at his arm and pulls him away from the group.

"Let's walk home, ok?"

He nods numbly. He knows exactly what she wants. She waits all of 30 seconds before she asks him, "Did you find anything?"

Of course, that's all there is. He's the one being used now. Is this how she felt when she found out? He briefly wonders if she's doing this on purpose. If this is his punishment. It would certainly fit the crime. She's so determined, so much like him. How did he never notice this before.

"Tommy, please, there's a reason you've been avoiding me lately."

He wants to laugh at how ridiculous this situation is but he can't force a single sound. _Just keep walking._

"Tommy!" She grabs his hand. "I need to know."

He stops in his tracks. He looms over her, grim words of truth plaguing his mind.

"I don't know how you got those names but you must stop. You have no idea what you're playing with."

For a moment she looks genuinely worried. That moment doesn't last too long.

"What? No, you know I can't do that."

"Lindy, this isn't a game. This is serious. They're investigated by at least two other departments and judging by the amount of files I have no access to probably by the feds as well. We're talking stuff that makes Babylon seem like amateurs' playground, ok? Human traffic, slavery, kiddie porn. You name it, they've done it. So please, _please _let the professionals take care of it."

"What about my father?" She doesn't seem so sure any more. She actually looks smaller, younger than usual. He starts feeling bad for his outburst.

"I can't find any apparent link... It's not a bad thing, Lindy."

"No, there must be a connection. There must be. Do you have those files?"

"Lindy..."

"Please, let's take a look at them together. I need to know."

Her voice cracks a little and he knows he's unable to deny her anything. Even harsh truth she's so desperate for.

"Fine, they're at my place," he sighs.

This is the point of no return.


	5. Chapter 5

**Sorry for all the angst but these two are a slow-burn for me and Lindy's not exactly where I need her to be yet. Soon, I promise.  
**

* * *

They're silent on the way to his apartment. He still has questions he doesn't dare to ask and dreams of unattainable triviality he refuses to share. She doesn't mention his earlier comment on Sara and he's grateful for it. Maybe this is how it's supposed to be between them, all quiet doubts and underlying sorrow. Maybe they're destined to be at this standstill forever.

He lets her inside his building and he can see her curiosity piqued. He's been to her place so many times he forgot she still hasn't been to his. He hopes this isn't the first and the last time but there's never any certainty when it comes to her, when it comes to _them.  
_She looks around as discreetly as possible but doesn't really comment on anything. He supposes there's nothing to comment on. His place is bare and she doesn't ask for a big tour.

"So you didn't manage to get your stuff back?"

Right, the Bubonic thing. Feels like a few lifetimes ago now. He was never one to get attached to things and he can count on the fingers of one hand the number of small objects that truly mean something to him. A couple of pictures, a watch. People (and the past) are more difficult to let go.

"Found some of it," he replies. He's actually surprised she knows about it. He doesn't remember ever mentioning it to her.

"Sophia told me," she says as if she just read his mind.

Boris stands in the kitchen looking hilariously confused; it's definitely been a while since Tommy had a woman over. He leaves Lindy gushing over his dog for a minute to gather the files and when he comes back Boris seems to have found his new best friend.

She grins at him, "George was right. Boris is easier to figure out than you are."

He grins back even if she's wrong about that. He's well aware he follows her, looks at her like a lost puppy. She just refuses to see it.

"It's already late. Maybe we should get to work," he points to the documents laying on the table.

3 hours later they're sitting in the middle of his living room, papers all around them like crop circles on the wooden floors. The air feels heavy, the cracks in their fragile relationship deepening with every frustrated sigh. There's nothing here but wasted time. They're both exhausted, both ready to explode. He can see how restless she becomes and it scares him. They're both too good at running away.

She forcefully pushes a pile of folders, pets Boris who is now shamelessly occupying the couch and goes to grab a beer from the fridge. He notices how easily she fits in his living space. It's painful not to imagine the what ifs. Apparently she has a similar thought.

"Do you ever wonder what would've happened if I never got that dating profile?"

This is it. This is how it ends. She is going to peel off his feelings like an old chipped paint trying to cover something that wasn't supposed to be.

"Yep. You'd continue hacking and I would probably arrest you at some point."

The joke falls flat and she seems disappointed that this is the answer he chose. This isn't what she is looking for. He knows perfectly well where this is going, what she thinks she needs. She wants this to be ugly and harsh. He's too tired to care anymore; for once he wants to be bitter and resentful. Just a lovefool drowning in self-pity. He can oblige her.

"You and Ben would've found a way back to each other. You'd be having a happily ever after. There. This is what you wanted to hear, right? More blame, more guilt."

She wordlessly sits next to him. Her love life is a sick, twisted fairytale and he's a distraction until her new prince charming arrives and Tommy finally disappears from the last chapter. What a useless waiting game he's playing; he's not even a replacement guy. He wants to blame it all on Ben so badly it makes him hate himself even more. It always comes down to him, isn't it? The great, noble Ben. The one who had (has?) her love. He's always with them, his shadow obscuring their every interaction, always reminding Tommy that he was nothing but a liar, a manipulator, _a traitor_. He's still a traitor because Ben is dead and he's still around. And despite everything that's happened he's here with her.

"Do you ever wonder what would've happened if you met me first?" His voice seems so frail, so unlike him. He's afraid of her answer. He's afraid she'll confirm his fears or validate his desire. Either way it's not how he wants it. How he wants her.

She doesn't answer just glances at him with an indescribable look on her face. She gulps the rest of her beer and moves closer, hesitantly stretching out her hand. Everything seems to slow down. Her finger softly traces an invisible line on his forearm, raising goosebumps, turning his blood into lava. This isn't right but he closes his eyes and leans into her touch all the same.

"You could've been... the one to..." She doesn't need to finish her thought, he already knows where this is going.

He chuckles bitterly because as much as he doesn't want to die, he feels like he won some kind of unfair lottery of life. Ben was the one with bright future, with plans for white picket fences and kids playing in the backyard. Always so open with his feelings, ready to give his heart away. Tommy remembers when he admitted falling for Lindy, the spark in his eye and defiance all over his face. He remembers a sharp pang in his own heart so quickly hushed and buried. _It's nothing but a simple attraction. Go out, get laid, get her out of your system and focus on the case._ And he did.

Her finger keeps drawing small patterns on his hand. He gently catches her wrist and moves it away. His heart is so full of her it spills on everything he touches.

"This isn't right, Lindy," he murmurs, his voice breaking a little. "I don't want it this way."

"What way, Tommy?" She's no longer soft touches and whispers. She seems angry.

"I don't want pity," he looks away. "I don't want to wake up tomorrow and see regret written all over your face. Maybe you should go."

She gets up and slowly puts her jacket on. He's afraid to look at her. He's falling apart and it's unfair to her. She deserves better. She deserves someone _she _loves, _she_ chooses, not just an idea of someone loving her at the moment she needs it.

"You know," she says in a low, calm voice, all anger seemingly gone now, "for the longest time I couldn't figure out why would Ben choose you for his best friend. Why he loved you."

She pauses and he can hear her opening the front door.

"I get it now."

And with that she's gone.


	6. Chapter 6

**We're almost done, guys. This is full of clichés but I'm tired of them dancing around each other. And if it seems rushed then just blame it on Tommy. He's the unreliable narrator here ;) Anyway enjoy!**

* * *

After that night he cuts himself off from everyone. He exists only between his home and the precinct. Get up, go to work, go home, sleep. Wash, rinse, repeat. He dreams about lost girls and the world in which _I love him, Tommy_ is repeated in all honesty. He wakes up panting, chilled to the bone.  
He wants to be the one who saves the day so badly. He wants to be the one to find Sara, to bring her home. He wants to comfort Lindy, make everything better but he's a knight in rusty armor. Sara doesn't want to be found and Lindy isn't a damsel in distress needing to be saved. He still continues to discreetly check the files for her but he's stuck.

Yeager tries to talk to him once, no doubt encouraged by Sophia, but they're not exactly friends and it ends up awkward and pointless. Once upon a time Ben would've taken him out for a beer (or ten) and he'd end up spilling all his heartaches in a drunken haze, his best friend's presence silently comforting. He misses that. There's no reward in talking to a cold tombstone.

Lindy calls him twice. The first time he takes so long to decide if he should answer that by the time he does she's already hang up. The second time he lets it go straight to voicemail. He's not sure why and whom he is punishing more. He knows she's ok, he knows she's not going anywhere and it's good enough. A clean break seems like a reasonable solution. He's a mess she doesn't need in her life.

This imposed separation goes on for three long weeks until one afternoon he gets home and finds her sitting on the stairs outside his apartment.

"You're not answering my calls," she tells him with a small smile.

It's an echo of old Tommy and Lindy, of times when there were more pressing things to worry about than a badly kept crush.

"You're not used to guys doing that, are you?"

She grins at his answer and gets up from the stairs. Boris is whimpering on the other side of the front door.

"I need to talk to you," she tells him while he's looking for his keys.

"Lindy, I don't have anything new. I'd call you if I did..."

"No," she shakes her head. "This isn't about Sara. For once it's not going to be about her. We need to talk about me... and you."

He opens the door and Boris goes straight to Lindy. Apparently Tommy wasn't the only one missing her.

He picks up the leash and hands it to Lindy.

"Join us for a walk?"

They're on their way to the park, Boris keeping to her side and it feels wonderfully domestic. Tommy could get used to that.

"Is it true you almost lost your badge?" She asks and it's not exactly the first question he thought he'd hear from her. "Or got suspended? I'm not sure how it works, George just mentioned you almost got fired."

"Yep," he answers.

"But you caught... him," she seems stunned.

"They didn't really appreciate the methods I used," he shrugs. He still owes Yeager for not telling them everything he's done.

"I didn't mean for that to happen." Guilt's clear in her eyes.

"No, Lindy, it's not your fault," he adds quickly. Between the two of them there's enough of guilt for several lifetimes. "I didn't exactly behave like a cop."

"You made it personal," she states quietly.

"He killed Ben. It was always personal. It just got more... intense."

"Because you have feelings for me," she doesn't look at him. He never expected her to be so blunt but maybe it's for the best. Just rip off the band aid.

There's no use in denying so he gives a short nod.

"Why didn't you tell me?" He chuckles at her question. She can't be serious.

"No, I'm talking about your plan to catch Bubonic. Operation Magnifly," she spits out the words like they're poison. "Why didn't you tell me the truth? Things were good between us."

"That's why I didn't tell you," he admits. "I don't know, I wasn't brave enough? Lindy, I'm not particularly proud of using you like that but I meant what I said back then. I was only doing my job. I didn't really know you."

"The way you talked about me," her voice trembles a little. "I was nothing but means to an end. I felt so used. Even the way I found out about it..."

He stays silent. There's not enough apologies to make it better and she doesn't need to hear his excuses.

"I just wish I heard it from you," she says softly and for the first time since this conversation started she looks at him.

They never talked this frankly before. It's not as unpleasant and difficult as he imagined it to be. They probably should've done it right from the moment she came back. It would surely save him so pain.

"I never thanked you for being there when I needed you. Despite everything. Even when I didn't want to see you. I don't want you to think it didn't matter. It does matter."

He didn't expect to hear that but Lindy's not done yet. Clearly he wasn't the only one who did some thinking.

"Leaving was difficult but so was being left, isn't it? I'm sorry I had to do this. There was no other choice at that time. I left because I needed to deal with it all by myself. I needed time to think. Alone. I came back once I did that, once I was ready."

It's no revelation but he's still grateful for her simple explanation. Lindy looks relieved, like a huge weight has been lifted off her shoulders. He feels the first drops of the autumn rain on his face. He whistles at Boris and points to the sky now covered with black, stormy clouds.

"We should go back."

By the time they reach his apartment they're soaking wet. Tommy is clumsily opening the door while trying to steer shaking Boris away from his usual path in a desperate attempt to save his living room couch. He takes off his dripping hoodie and sodden shoes and quickly grabs a few towels. He hands one to shivering Lindy while he takes care of Boris and the floor.

"Bathroom's that way," he gives her an old t-shirt and sweat pants. "I'll change in the bedroom."

A few minutes later he doesn't even hear her come inside the room. She's standing in the doorway, drowning in his clothes and he can't help but laugh.

"Did I tell you you're freakishly tall?" It makes him laugh even more.

"Not yet. You look cute like that." It's a slip of the tongue but he doesn't want to take it back. She does a mocking curtsy to him and looks around the bedroom.

"Is this you?" She picks up a small framed photo from his bookshelf.

He smiles.

"I got that bike for my birthday. For whatever reason I really wanted it to be blue with a red stripe so my father painted it on his day off. He wasn't very good at it. Left paint prints all over the kitchen floor. My mother was furious."

"Do you see them often? Your parents?"

"Not really," he sighs. "I see my mom every couple of months at family Sunday dinner. Dad was killed in the line of duty when I was 13."

"I didn't know," she looks uncomfortable. "I'm sorry. I was being nosy."

He shrugs at her. It's just another thing on the long list of things he never shared with her.

"It's ok. It's not like we swapped childhood stories."

"Is this why you became a cop?" She looks sheepish. She clearly wants to know more but is unsure if she should ask. He actually finds it endearing. It's been a while since someone was genuinely curious about him.

"The police shrink definitely thinks so," he jokes. She looks surprised so he explains, "It was mandatory. After Ben died..."

She nods, soft look in her eyes.

"You know, I think my mom cried more when I told her I joined the academy than when my dad died," he can't help but share. There are so many things he left unsaid, so many things he wants her to know, to understand about him. "She's still terrified I'll end up like him. For a very long time he was the only reason I wanted to be a cop. I thought I couldn't get my life together if I didn't find the man who shot him."

"Did you?" She stands so close to him, her presence warming the coldness of the memories he's reliving.

"No, never found him. I've finally learned to let it go. Once I let my dad rest in peace, I've figured out my life. Well, kind of... I guess I'm still learning."

She smiles at him and puts the picture back to its place.

"I've never really told that to anyone," he's a bit embarrassed now.

"Your secret is safe with me," she takes a step closer. "It's my turn now, right? It's only fair if I tell you something about myself."

"There's really no need for that," he looks away. He had her file memorized long before they even knew each other. He knows every detail of her life.

She grabs his arm and forces him to look her in the eye. She looks serious, grave. She's an actual mind-reader.

"That file isn't me, Tommy," she emphasises and takes another small step. "You think you know everything about me because of it. But you don't. We're more than just a sequence of events happening to us. You think you have me figured out but you're wrong. You're so wrong."

He's so captivated by the passion in her voice he doesn't dare to comment.

"You think I don't see it, that I don't care. Everything you're doing... You're being unfair, Tommy. Unfair to me and to yourself. And the worst of all is that you think you're betraying Ben," she pauses as if to check for his reaction. "I loved Ben. He was a good man. But so are you."

And with that she stands on tiptoe and gently presses her lips to his.


	7. Chapter 7

**Smut time! Nah, sadly not really. I honestly think there's nothing more difficult to write than a sex scene so this weak erotica interlude is seriously an OOC cheesefest for which I am truly sorry. ******It was more of an exercise in finding synonyms for the word "fire"... **There'll be another chapter and you won't need to read this one to enjoy it.  
**

* * *

He remembers when his father gave him that blue bike and for the first time in his life there were no training wheels, nothing to hold him down. He was racing through familiar streets of Brooklyn half terrified, half giddy. It's that fear of falling, of losing control mixed with pure exaltation of flying. This is how it feels like now.

"Are you sure?" He manages to utter when she traces his jawline with heated touch. _Are you sure you want this? Me? Us? _There's no going back and he knows it. Once they've crossed this line he'll want more. He'll want fights and breakfasts in bed. He'll want her toothbrush in his bathroom and her clothes on the bedroom floor. Her every dream and her every nightmare. He'll want everything.

She hastily nods in between the kisses. The flame flickers, chasing away his last doubts, replacing this uncertainty with a new longing.

Her fingers are pressing into his back, pulling him closer and everything is a blur. He hears a moan and he thinks he recognizes his own voice but it's so different and distant he isn't even sure. His neck hurts. He's too tall, she's too short and they fit perfectly. And God he wants her so badly. Everything is on fire, melting the old guilt away and he picks her up, so light, his heart is so light now. He navigates them in an uncoordinated dance through the room while she clumsily tries to get his shirt off. There are clothes, too many clothes and teeth grazing his collarbone. Her hair catches on his watch and she laughs in the corner of his mouth. It's pure bliss. He almost trips on her discarded t-shirt when she grabs him by the belt and they tumble down. His legs hit the bed frame hard and he lets out a hiss of pain.

"Ow, trying to break the- " He starts saying but she shushes him quickly with insisting kisses and when she captures his earlobe and tells him she wants more, he's pretty sure he wouldn't notice an actual apocalypse, much less a broken leg or a broken bed.

In return he places a trail of small bites from her neck to her breasts. His tongue is leaving burn marks on her soft skin, salty taste of a trembling body and it's all hers, whatever he is, he's hers now.

"You're fucking amazing," he moans breathlessly, boldly. The world keeps falling out of focus around the figure stretched across the mattress. How appropriate, she was always the centre of his universe.

She inhales roughly, her deft, warm hand exploring, performing magic rites with that same spell that kept fixing his gaze upon her face. He's shaking, searching blindly his nightstand until she pins him against the dark grey sheets and whispers promises of beautiful sins. He's held tightly in this otherworldly state; outside the raindrops are knocking rhythmically, mercilessly on the windows, the wind crying, sighing. It's all the same, reality and fantasy, and that lustful staccato that sets him aflame.

He wants to beg her to slow down or to accelerate, the sweet torture she inflicts on him so efficiently. All in vain, their wilful madness hurts so good.

She grabs his neck and forces him to keep his eyes on hers. Demands he keeps them open. To see her, to see what he's doing to her. He's exposed beyond his naked form, like the surface scratched raw all the way to his brittle heart. He smooths the damp hair from her temple as she wordlessly pleads for release. This is the only way she should ever fall apart. Tangled, pulsing, in broad daylight or in the deep night, _with him_, so there's nothing left of her but murmurs and swollen lips and her fingerprints on his back. Out of the corner of his eye he catches sight of her hand clutching the covers. He hears his own name and he never knew it could sound like this. She hurls him over an endless precipice and then he's falling and falling and falling until there's nothing but light and darkness and this moment.

It's an absolution.

Later when their breathing slows down and they're watching ethereal shadows dancing on the wall, he whispers, "You were here before, you know? So many nights you were here with me. But it's the first time I'm not waking up but falling asleep."


	8. Chapter 8

He wakes up to the cold sheets and a still dark bedroom. The memories of last night's events come rushing back. Lindy waiting for him, reaching out, calming his restless heart. Her kiss, her soft sighs. _Her. _She's imprinted on his mind, on his skin and he refuses to go back to times when this was just a fantasy. Like a rip current pulling him under he feels panic rising at the thought she might have left him in the middle of the night. He hears a hushed curse and it's only then that he notices a figure in an oversized t-shirt crouching next to bed. Lindy crawls back under the covers, casually nestling in the crook of his arm, a quick kiss to his chest. He instinctively wraps his arms around her.

"Sorry, didn't mean to wake you. I bumped my toe on your stupid bed frame," she whines.

He's so relieved he feels euphoric. She's still here. She's still here and she's with him.

"I got cold. Apparently someone likes to hog the covers," she nuzzles up against him.

"That's because I'm a big boy and I need all of them," he says somewhat smugly, his voice raspy from sleep.

She smacks him lightly but grins at his answer.

"Next time just cocoon us both. I wouldn't mind some extra body heat."

He sighs happily, resting his head on her shoulder, intertwining their legs. They lay quietly for a few minutes and he's barely awake when he hears her say, "I wouldn't just leave."

"What?" He asks drowsily.

"You're so bad at hiding your feelings, especially for a cop. I used to think you were so difficult to read but once I knew what to look for, you turned out to be pretty transparent."

He forces himself to open his eyes. She turns around so she can face him.

"You were freaking out already. You really think I would just leave after what happened?" She mumbles into his chest, her breath tickling his skin. "I don't do one night stands and I'm pretty sure this wasn't just about sex for you."

"I'm just..." _Scared you'd leave? Terrified you'd regret it? Worried you'd change your mind?_ It's easier to confess when you're wrapped in someone's warmth. "I'm just in lo-"

His words disappear in her kiss. It's chaste and tender, and a little bittersweet.

"Please, don't say it yet, ok? I need more time."

He wants to hear her say it back so badly but he can't really blame her for being cautious. He had long months to come to terms with his feelings and it's only fair she's allowed the same. She kisses him once more, slowly drawing her lips away, letting them linger in this moment. This is all the honesty he needs from her. She'll tell him someday.

When he wakes up the second time the room is already engulfed in pale hues of the early morning sun. Lindy sleeps peacefully, one hand dangerously placed on his hip. It's still early and he wonders if he can somehow get out of work. He's not exactly the type to ask for a sick leave but he desperately wants to spend the day with her. Preferably naked in this warm bed. A small whimpering outside the bedroom door reminds him however that Boris might have other plans, at least for the morning.

"Lindy," he whispers in her ear and gets an indignant huff in reply. "Lindy, I need to take Boris for a walk. I'll be back in ten."

She pulls the covers over her head and mutters an insult. Clearly she's not much of a morning person. He drags himself out of bed, quickly gets dressed and takes Boris for the shortest walk of his life. With a bit of luck Lindy will be still asleep when he's back.

She's not. She's sitting in the middle of bed, still wearing his t-shirt and playing with her phone.

"Sophia says hi," she greets him with a mischievous grin.

"Something tells me she said more than just hi," he drops on the bed next to her. "Didn't think you'd kiss and tell."

"I just told her that whole 'no more cops' rule turned out to be stupid," she smirks and next thing he knows she straddles him in one swift move.

"I was hoping you'd have a cop fetish," he says teasingly and sneaks one hand under her t-shirt, slowly tracing the contours of her thigh. "Is it the badge or the gun? Or maybe the handcuffs?"

She stills his hand inches away from his target.

"Handcuffs somehow seem less sexy when you've actually been arrested before."

He mentally kicks himself. Way to ruin the moment. Thankfully she doesn't seem mad or upset and for a second he wonders if she's entertaining the thought. Still, after everything that's happened, he owes her more than an idea for a kinky fun so he softly kisses her inner wrists in apology.

"I'm sorry. For everything. I'm worried we'll let the past dictate how we are now," he admits.

"We wouldn't be here if it wasn't for that past," she shakes her head and plays with the hem of his shirt. He doesn't dare to move. "You know what we need?"

"Something requiring less clothes?" He replies hopefully.

She laughs at that and moves from his lap. He groans in disappointment.

"Nope, we have plenty of time for that. We need food," she says with an eagerness that he immediately associates with kitchen fires and other catastrophes. Lindy's cooking famously oscillates between prison food and potential biohazard.

It must be showing on his face because she rolls her eyes and helps him stand up.

"Be a good boyfriend and prepare us breakfast," she pushes him in the direction of kitchen.

Boyfriend. Is there such thing as being too damn happy?

"Ok, I can offer you coffee and eggs."

"Wait, that's it? After all that workout last night?" She leaves her phone on the table and joins him for the fridge inspection. "Oh. It's empty."

"I wasn't exactly expecting company," he explains with a quick kiss to her temple.

"Fine, coffee and eggs then," she says with an exaggerated sigh and moves to check her loudly beeping phone. "But you owe me a breakfast in bed. Must include pastries."

He chuckles and nods in agreement. He fills the coffee maker with cold water and grabs two mismatched mugs. One of them has "Detectives Do It Under Cover" printed on it and was a silly gift from Ben. He promptly hides it at the back of the cabinet.

"Hey, Lindy, if it's Sophia just tell her we're busy. No, wait, on the other hand maybe better not telling her that..."

There's no answer and when he turns around he sees Lindy glued to her phone.

He wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her to his chest. She's standing stiffly and he immediately knows something is wrong.

She silently raises her phone so he can better read the screen over her shoulder. There's one new message from an unknown number. His heart drops.

_U R IN DANGER. S.  
_

* * *

**The End. Or TBC.**

**I'm not sure yet. If the show is cancelled I'll need some time to mourn them and if it's not (please o gods of the mtv, I promise never to call you a worthless network again) I might try to incorporate s2 canon. Either way I just wanted to get these two idiots together because dammit they're perfect for each other. **

**Anyway from the bottom of my heart I wanted to thank you all for reading this and extra thank you to those who took the time and reviewed. **

**In the meantime see you around the fandom. I'll be the one obsessively reblogging Tindy gifs :)**


	9. Chapter 9

**So I'm not over them and I will mourn them by giving them my own closure. I just hate it when shows/ships with potential are not allowed to evolve. There's been a few cancelled shows I enjoyed but last time I was this annoyed was with Firefly so y'know, it's been a while ;) I know about that petition to C. Taylor and I did sign it but I admit I'm not holding my breath. Netflix would probably be a good fit but what network will take over a show with such a small following? It's sadly all about money. Who cares if the product has potential if it doesn't fill network's pockets.  
**

* * *

"It's Sara, right? It must be from Sara." Lindy's still pacing the floor, her chosen path firmly set between the kitchen table and the living room couch where Tommy's currently sitting. "It's gotta be her."

"Could be Sophia? She was worried you were doing something dangerous. Maybe she's trying to scare you so you'll stop."

It sounds improbable to his ears and judging by the patronising "don't be stupid" look she's giving him, she definitely feels the same. At least she stopped pacing.

"Ok so it's not Sophia. Can you think of anyone else who would do it, as a joke maybe?"

"You have got to be kidding me, Tommy!" She exclaims in frustration. "You know all of my friends! You really think one of them would do that?"

"Well, Connor seemed quite pissed off with you after that dinner a few weeks ago," he suggests but he knows he's grasping at straws. Connor might not be Lindy's biggest fan but Tommy doubts he'd stoop so low.

Lindy doesn't even dignify his suggestion with a reply. She just rolls her eyes and sits next to him on the couch.

"You know this is more serious than a malicious prank," she tells him quietly.

"I'm just trying to eliminate all other possibilities," he admits and takes her slightly shaking hand in his. His gut is telling him something is very, very wrong. He tries not to show his overprotective side but damn if he didn't wish to pack her things up and ship them both off somewhere far away from here. Hawaii would be nice. They could both use a vacation.

Before he has time to daydream about her in a bikini laying next to him on the warm sand, she puts her head on his shoulder and sighs.

"She never contacted me before. I was in grave danger before and she never contacted me. Why now?"

He puts a small kiss on top of her head, a faint smell of her shampoo that undoubtedly still lingers on his pillows. He wants to go back to that. Everything seemed so simple just a couple of hours ago. There's no way he's letting anyone ruin this for them but for that he seriously needs to switch off the starry-eyed boyfriend mode and get to work. If that's even possible at this point. He gives her one more kiss. Her lips are warm but taste a bit different now. More familiar, yes but more exciting at the same time. There's a small reddened area in the crook of her neck that he only notices now, a mark his stubble left on her soft skin. He wonders what other places on her body carry his trace. If only the universe wasn't such a cruel joker.

He slowly disentangles himself and gets up. It's time to be a cop again.

"Fine. Assuming this was Sara, it's the first time in over five years that you have any direct contact with her. You must be getting closer with your investigation than we thought."

"It also means she's aware that I know she's still alive," Lindy points out. "I mean I never assumed she was dead but maybe she knows that I saw that footage? That I know it was a fake kidnapping?"

"Right, right. But you've been investigating her disappearance in this context for almost 6 months now. You spent 18 weeks in your hometown, alone, no friends, no help and she didn't contact you then. If you've been in danger this whole time, you were an easier target there."

Now he's the one pacing the floor.

"18 weeks? Did you count or something?" Lindy says with a laugh that quickly dies when she sees the look on his face. "You did... you were counting. Tommy, I-"

"It's nothing. I'm just good with numbers." He doesn't want to talk about it. Not now. If they start it'll be another long, emotional conversation and there are more pressing matters. "We'll overanalyze it another time, ok?"

She accepts it with a nod and a small yes.

"I came back here and you helped me with those profiles and that's all. We haven't found anything."

"Yes, but lately we haven't worked on that together. Maybe _you_ found something and you just don't realise how crucial it is?"

"No, Tommy," she shakes her head and says almost shyly, "I wasn't doing anything regarding Sara since that night here. I was a bit... preoccupied."

Preoccupied with other things. Like him. He feels flattered for a short moment but it's quickly replaced by a grim realisation.

"Lindy, between now and then there's only one thing that changed," he tells her, stopping in his tracks. The feeling of unease is firmly settled now.

"What do you mean one thing? Plenty has changed. I came back to New York. Somehow I managed to get my friends back which is just a proof they're better people than I could ever be. I managed to get your help. Hell, I even managed to get you..." Her eyes widen.

"That's the thing. This relationship. Don't you think the timing is a bit strange? That after everything that's happened it's right after you spend the night with a cop that you get this message?"

"Come on, now you're just flattering yourself. This case doesn't revolve around you." It's a cheap joke and they both know it. She's clearly rattled by his reasoning.

"Me helping you isn't new. Whoever is behind it must have known that for weeks. I mean I was trying to find you all that time you were gone and I've been compiling the files for you once you came back. But this," he points between them, "this is new."

"Yes, it's new, but why would my love life matter? I mean I already dated a cop, remember?" She refutes with a certain apprehension in her voice. Some day soon they're going to need to have another conversation about Ben.

"You didn't know Sara faked the kidnapping then," he quickly replies and goes to grab a long forgotten cup of coffee. It tastes particularly bitter.

"Again, why would it matter that I'm seeing a cop?" She doesn't give up, still challenging his idea. She gets off the couch and follows him to the kitchen.

"I have access to information?" He suggests.

"I'm a hacker and a damn good one at that," she reminds him, pride clear in her voice and he can't help but give her an indulgent smile. "I usually don't need anyone to get information for me. Unless you've found something that you forgot to tell me? Yesterday you said you had nothing new. What if it's _you_ who uncovered crucial element and you don't know it yet."

He quickly gulps down the rest of his coffee, trying to remember the files he looked through in the past three weeks. Nothing caught his attention then but maybe she's right. Another thought hits him and he pales a little.

"Lindy," he says lowering his voice to a whisper. "How would anyone know about us already?"

"What?" She automatically whispers back.

"How would they know-"

"I heard what you said but come on. Someone could have followed me, could have seen me coming in and staying for the night. Someone could've tapped into the security cameras you have on your street. Hell, for all we know Sophia could've just tweeted the whole world about it."

He shakes his head at that. He's really not convinced. This is beyond gossip posted on social media. It feels too precise, too sure.

He grabs her arm and in a normal voice states, "Let's just leave it for now, ok? We should get dressed, get some actual food and I need to call work to tell them I'm taking today off."

She looks confused and somewhat annoyed. He puts a finger to her lips and murmurs, "Don't say a word."

His hand is still firmly on her arm as he guides her to the bathroom. He closes the door behind them and turns on the shower looking around worryingly.

"What the hell, Tommy?" She hisses in his ear.

"What if my place is bugged?"

"Are you serious? Wow, I never knew you could be this paranoid."

"Lindy, I_ am _serious. Being paranoid is what saves a cop's life. I just have a bad feeling about it."

"You don't think it's Sara," she crosses her arms defensively. "You think it's someone pretending to be her. Playing games with us. Trying to scare me."

"I honestly don't know," he admits. "Either way someone is using your sister to get to you."

"And for once it isn't you." He winces. He foolishly hoped they were past that.

Lindy looks shocked by her own words. She takes a deep breath and hesitantly puts one hand on his chest.

"I'm sorry," she mouths silently. He shakes his head and gives her a sad smile. She can lash out all she needs as long as there's still forgiveness. And truthfully if there's one thing he'd change, it would be the way she found out. He was such a coward and it cost him so much. He should have told her. Even a damn psychic figured that out.

"It's clearly working. Whoever is doing it knows how to get to me," she says as she moves to gently touch his cheek. He turns his head a little, his lips caressing the palm of her hand. And then he leans forward and kisses her with a sudden desperation. He rests his hands on the sink, pushing her back against the cold, dark marble, successfully trapping her against his body. Her t-shirt is damp and he realizes the hot water is still running, fogging the mirror behind her, covering them already with a thin layer of sweat. He finds the same reddened spot on her neck he saw earlier and grazes it with his teeth. She lets out a low groan, clutching the front of her clothes now, ready to toss them aside when she opens her eyes and looks at him with a sudden panic.

"Wait, what if you're right?"

"Huh?" He answers inarticulately, his brain unable to process any information beyond her almost naked form pressed against him.

"What if your place really is bugged?" She stops his hand currently tracing her hip, trying to lower her underwear.

"Now you believe me?" He chuckles. "With the water running they won't hear us."

"I'm not putting on a show for some creeps," she states with a firm conviction and already starts straightening the t-shirt. "Been there, done that, right?"

She winks at him but he can see she's nervous. There's more to it than a memory of a heated kiss during an undercover op.

"Tommy, I need you to tell me something but you have to be honest," she bites her lip and hesitantly glances at him.

"Of course," he assures her with a small kiss to her temple.

"Remember that medallion Ben used to wear? The one with the patron saint-"

"I know which one," he interrupts her and adds jokingly, "I come from a long line of Irish Catholics."

"Right. I know it was bugged," she says with a visible distaste. "Ben was wearing it all the time when we were together. Did he ever record... you know, did you ever hear us..." She clearly can't bring herself to finish that thought.

"No, never. He would never do that to you," he confirms firmly. "Besides, it would have probably killed me to hear that. It was difficult enough to know you two were together."

He tries to make the situation lighter but she looks at him curiously. Of course. The idiot that he is, he never actually told her exactly how long he's been nursing these feelings for her.

"I thought you didn't care about me back then," she says offhandedly, reaching to shut off the water.

"I was attracted to you, nothing more but then Ben fell for you and..." He starts explaining and finally adds quietly. "I knew you were heartache from the moment I saw you."

"You still did what you did." She turns her back to him and wipes the mirror with a small towel. He can see her reflection now. She looks closed off.

"Yeah," he can't deny how screwed up that is. "It seemed like a silly crush then. I didn't want it to get in the way of my work."

He gently turns her around to face him, runs his hand through her messy hair.

"Will never make that mistake again."

"Once we've found Sara, we'll have a lot to talk about," she says with a sigh. "Give me five minutes to get dressed. We need to get out of here."

He goes back to the living room and quickly dials Yeager's number. He tries to come up with a decent excuse to miss workday but the news he gets rectify any ideas he might have had.

"Lindy, we need to go to the precinct," he informs her the second she re-emerges from the bathroom. "Yeager didn't tell me the details but looks like Shaw is on the warpath and wants to see me asap."

She doesn't look thrilled by any of this but reluctantly joins him anyway. They're both lost in their thoughts on the way to the CCU but she's still holding his hand and that's good enough for Tommy.

She hesitates a little before entering the building but quickly covers it with a defiant smile. He knows how difficult it is for her though so he leaves her in the hallway while he catches up with his partner just leaving Sergeant's office.

"No idea what's going on but she's angry as hell," Yeager tells him with a quick glance over his shoulder. "Something went down this morning."

"Detective Calligan, you're finally gracing us with your presence," he hears Sergeant Shaw saying. "My office, now."

He steels himself for whatever comes, quickly closing the door behind him.

"Do you recognise this coding?" She asks him without wasting any time.

He takes a closer look. Some of the syntaxes look vaguely familiar but overall it seems quite basic. It certainly lacks Bubonic's audacity or Lindy's creativity. He shrugs.

"Not really but it looks a bit sloppy. New player?"

"You can say that," Catherine replies with an odd look on her face. "This morning I've received a phone call from our ever friendly colleagues at the FBI."

It immediately piques Tommy's interest. FBI is almost always bad news.

"Apparently," she continues, "there's been a series of hacking attempts. Someone was trying to access their highly classified files."

Tommy squirms a bit under her scrutiny. Just a few days ago he was briefly entertaining the same idea.

"A quick investigation led them to the potential hacker. Want to take a wild guess who that might be?"

"Please don't say Lindy," he's silently praying. "Just not Lindy."

"You, Calligan."

She doesn't bother to let him form a coherent reply to that, "What the hell were you thinking, Detective!"

He's too shocked to answer immediately.

"Come on, it wasn't me!" He finally exclaims, his voice filled with indignation.

"Of course, because you're always doing everything by the book," she says with a sardonic smile. "Why would someone set you up? What's going on?"

He's pretty sure Lindy wouldn't want him to spill her secrets to Catherine. He might have been forgiven but there's no way the same applies to his superior.

"Nothing. It's private."

"Private," she repeats coldly. "So it has something to do with Miss Sampson. Calligan, I don't think you get it. I really don't care what you're doing with that girl. You can follow her like a lost puppy, you can fuck her, hell you can marry her but you don't hack for her!"

He winces at her words.

"You're way out of line. And I don't hack for her."

"At least not lately, right?" She says in a dry, measured tone. "You're good at your job but you've been distracted these past few months. Reckless. You need to stop thinking with your pants. Is she really worth losing your badge?"

"It wasn't me," he calmly tells her again.

She doesn't look convinced. Finally she dismisses him with a shake of her head and an exasperated, "They're sending someone over to talk to you. Unofficially for the time being. They should be here in a couple of hours."

He rises from the chair and nods.

"Detective, if I were you I'd come up with a good reason for all this mess. Something that doesn't involve your sex life."

He shuts the office door a bit more forcefully than necessary and takes a deep breath. He spots Lindy standing awkwardly next to his desk and once she notices him he points to the exit.

"What's going on?" She asks immediately.

He sighs and takes out his phone, ignoring her question for the time being.

"George? It's Tommy. Can you meet us in that coffee place you showed me the other day? Yeah, Toby's. As soon as you can, we're in trouble."


	10. Chapter 10

**Apologies for taking this long. I wasn't sure if I wanted to continue this story and once I decided to go on, work/real life got difficult and I hit a major writer's block. Anyway, to the few people that might still be interested in reading this, hope you enjoy!**

* * *

15 minutes later he's sitting in the window seat of Toby's Coffee Shop impatiently checking his phone. The place is slowly getting empty, the usual morning crowd already on their way to work. George isn't there yet and Tommy feels his confidence fading with every passing minute, the situation he's currently in making him more nervous than he's willing to admit.

Lindy comes back with two cups of coffee and doughnuts. Despite everything she seems happier than he has seen her in a long time. This isn't how he planned for the things to unravel but damn if he's not secretly proud of his influence on her mood, if it is indeed the case (and he likes to think it is).

"If it's your last breakfast as a cop, I thought you could go for a little cliché," she jokes but he can see worry clouding her face.

She takes a seat next to him and casually places her hand on his thigh. He still has trouble processing that this is them now, that being with her is no longer a troubled fantasy ignited by a basic want and stifled by his guilty conscience. They're broken people and if anything they will always have that in common. He wonders how much of her heart belongs to him now. He quickly wishes these thoughts away; it's too easy to drown in self-pity they create, too easy to remind him of his best friend. He knows he wouldn't be here if Ben was still alive and that's just messed up. He knows a part of her died with him because a part of his own heart died that night. A lifetime of memories ripped to shreds with a knife that cut Ben's throat and left them all bleeding.

"We'll figure it out, all right? I know how much your job means to you," she tells him with a conviction he's currently lacking, clearly mistaking his pensive look for a concern over his professional future. He gives her a small smile but doesn't share his thoughts. There will be a more appropriate moment for such confession.

She doesn't seem surprised by his silence, instead she simply pushes the plate inviting him to grab one of the pastries. He shakes his head, breakfast is the last thing on his mind. Besides, knowing her appetite none of it will go to waste. How Lindy manages to look this slim with the amount of food she can inhale will forever stay a mystery to him.

She takes a bite of her doughnut and groans in delight.

"It's not exactly how I imagined our morning after but at least now there's decent food," she grins at him and he laughs back. "You really have to try the chocolate one. So good."

She looks adorable excited by such simple things and he can't resist. He leans forward to slowly kiss her, gently tugging on her bottom lip, his right hand automatically reaching to softly touch her neck.

"You're right. Tastes fantastic," he whispers huskily, transfixed by her mouth.

Someone clears their throat behind him and he's instantly jolted out of his reverie. He straightens in his seat and grabs a cup of coffee carefully avoiding any eye contact with their newly arrived friend. Before Lindy PDA was never his thing, making him feel too visible, too vulnerable. How things can change.

"George, finally!" she exclaims. "You used to be quicker than that."

"Oh I'm sure you've found something to keep you busy," George replies with a knowing smirk. He puts down his laptop bag and unceremoniously steals a doughnut from Lindy's plate. She shoots him an amused, indulgent look but doesn't comment on the obvious allusion.

"So I suppose you didn't call to update me on your relationship status. What's going on?" George says through a mouthful of pastry. He sits down at the opposite side of the table and starts unpacking his bag.

"It's kind of a long story," Tommy begins the explanation but pauses unsure if he should reveal anything they got regarding Lindy's sister.

"Sara faked her kidnapping and Tommy's being framed for hacking some FBI files," Lindy summarises swiftly seeing his hesitation. Her hand is still on his thigh, reassuring and warm.

"Clearly it wasn't that long," George chuckles. "But wait, what do you mean she faked it? Why?"

"To keep me safe, apparently. We're still unsure exactly why," Lindy says dismissively, obviously trying to minimise the importance of this revelation. Tommy can sense she's not really comfortable sharing this story.

"Ok, we'll get back to that. And the fact that you never told me," George replies with a slightly accusatory tone.

"Now what is about you hacking the FBI?" He turns to Tommy. "And you didn't even call me! Man, I miss out on all the fun."

"I didn't hack them. Why does everyone think I would? I'm the cop here, remember?"

His denial sounds weak and George looks like he really wants to point something out but graciously decides against it. They all know Tommy doesn't exactly play by the book when Lindy's involved. Instead he asks, "So you two think it's connected to Sara?"

They exchange quick looks and simultaneously shrug.

"Might be," Lindy admits with a sigh. "I asked Tommy to check some people for me and next thing we know this FBI mess happens."

She sounds guilty, like she already decided it was her fault and Tommy doesn't like it.

"Or it could be a coincidence," he adds immediately. "I'm sure there's a few people I've arrested that wouldn't mind setting me up in revenge."

"Or people you didn't catch," George hints carefully. "that might still hold a grudge against you."

"It's not sophisticated enough to be Bubonic's work," Lindy observes, instantly identifying the subject of his suggestion.

"There was nothing interesting about those codes, nothing that Bubonic would sign with his name," Tommy says firmly. "And I'm sure he would want me to know it was him."

"So if it's not an old foe, it must be a new one," George hypothesises out loud. He suddenly grins devilishly. It's not a good sign. "Right, so when are we going to discuss the fact I caught you two making out?"

"Seriously, George, there are more important things than sharing _private _details from our _personal _lives," Lindy warns him but Tommy can hear amusement in her voice.

"As the best friend to both of you it just hurts my feelings that you didn't tell me," George says in a mocking, overly dramatic tone. "But fine, if that's how you treat your faithful friend let's just go straight to the business. What do you want?"

Tommy rolls his eyes and hands him the keys to his apartment.

"Can you do a security sweep for me? As discreetly as possible, of course. And check Lindy's place too, just to be sure, ok?"

"Now why would you even think I have the necessary tools-" Tommy shoots him an incredulous look at that. "Fine, I'll bring my toys. Bugged apartments are all the rage with the psychos lately. Ironic considering it's so oldschool government-"

"George, we really don't have time for this!"

Their discussion is suddenly interrupted by Tommy's phone vibrating on the table. He checks the messages and exhales loudly.

"Catherine," he confirms. "FBI is waiting for me."

They start gathering their things and George suggests driving Lindy to work.

"I'm still not telling you anything!" She informs him laughingly and Tommy chuckles at George's disappointed pout. "Call me once you're done with Mulder and Scully, ok? I finish work at 7. I can come over after if you want?"

He nods and reluctantly lets go of her hand. She leaves him with a small peck and a smile before disappearing in the crowd. Her presence was a much needed reassurance and he doesn't feel as invincible now.

The FBI guy looks nothing like either Mulder or Scully. He's a short, balding man in an ill-fitting suit that seems to be as threatening as an insurance salesman. He's chatting with Shaw and judging by the annoyed look on her face their conversation must be anything but thrilling. She spots Tommy and for a second she seems relieved, like she wasn't quite sure he'd show up. She calls him over with an impatient wave.

"Detective Calligan? I'm Special Agent Tolson. Your Sergeant just suggested we use her office instead of an interrogation room. It is, after all, just a friendly chat."

"Exactly, Agent Tolson," Catherine confirms icily. "As long as there are no official charges, I set the rules for this meeting."

"Of course," he replies with a reassuring smile. "We're all on the same team here."

They move to the familiar room and Tommy can feel everybody's eyes following him. It's not that rare for the CCU to have a visit from the FBI but considering the latest string of dull, easy cases his colleagues must suspect this isn't exactly work related.

Tommy takes a seat, suddenly feeling like a teenage troublemaker about to get reprimanded by a principal. Growing up he's been in this situation too many times to count and if it wasn't for the warning look that Catherine is giving him, he'd laugh at the irony of it all.

"I'm sure you've been informed about the situation, so let me cut to the chase," Tolson tells him in a cold, condescending manner. Gone are earlier pleasantries and Tommy slouches in his chair a bit. "Our files are classified for a reason and we don't like it when some rookie detective snoops around them."

"Then I guess it's a good thing that I didn't," Tommy replies a bit too defiantly.

"Right. So your sergeant keeps telling me."

This comes off as a surprise. Tommy didn't think that Catherine would've defended him, not after their earlier conversation. Tolson takes out a bunch of papers from his briefcase and opens a large brown folder. He silently goes through the documents, a look of boredom quickly forming on his face.

"You're a bit of a cliché, aren't you, Calligan," he finally says throwing the file on the desk. "Joined the force to catch dad's killer? Doesn't look like it worked that well."

"That's enough, agent," Tommy hears Catherine object behind him. He clenches his fists, trying to control his anger.

Tolson raises his hands in mock surrender and grabs another stack of papers.

"So how about we play a little game," he says. "Very simple rules, detective. I show you some pictures and you tell me how you know these people."

One by one he's given photos to look at, some taken by surveillance cameras, others clear mugshots. He recognises maybe five of them from the list that Lindy gave him to check but he dismisses them anyway. He doesn't really know any of these people. It goes like that for a while and Tommy starts to get some of his confidence back until he sees one photo that makes him hesitate. He knows this man. He met him for the first and only time earlier this year. He had a lousy coffee in his messy kitchen before going back to New York empty handed and heartbroken. Tommy knows he can't lie about that one.

"That one looks familiar," he admits with a heavy sigh. "John Sampson?"

"Yes," Tolson confirms almost happily. "Of course you'd be stupid to deny, that name is all over your file. One might even think you're obsessed with that family."

"Then one is wrong," Tommy replies testily. "His daughter was a source in a major case last year. That's it."

"That's it," Tolson repeats, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "And out of all these people Sampson is the only one you recognise, right?"

"Exactly. This is a big city, agent," Tommy says calmly. He can already feel a dull headache building up and he desperately wants this meeting to end.

"And of course the Golden Circle has nothing to do with it," Tolson adds in a measured tone.

It immediately catches Tommy's attention. His genuine confusion must be showing because Tolson quickly changes the subject. It's the first time the agent doesn't have an upper hand in this conversation.

"So if you didn't try to access our files, who did?"

"I don't know," Tommy replies honestly. "A random cracker?"

"A random cracker who would mimic your police credentials? Detective, we both know this seems more personal than that."

Tommy shrugs defeated. He doesn't think there's much more to add. Either this man believes him or not and something tells him this was a lost case from the start.

"I think you got what you wanted, agent Tolson," Catherine declares after a few seconds of tense silence. "If you're not charging Calligan with anything, our meeting is done. I'm sure you're a busy man with a tight schedule."

Tolson nods his agreement and slowly starts packing the documents back to his briefcase. He seems far from convinced and Tommy is certain this isn't over yet. But at least they're done for the day and that alone is a relief.

"We'll be in touch, Sergeant," Tolson tells Catherine before heading out.

She closes the office door behind him, sits in the vacant chair opposite Tommy and crosses her arms. She fixes him with a hard, indecipherable look but doesn't say anything.

"So that went well," Tommy says sarcastically just to break the uncomfortable silence.

Shaw sighs and shakes her head. He's suddenly reminded of his mother that one time she caught him at four in the morning, trying to sneak back home drunk out of his stupid 15-year-old mind. He recognises the look now. She's disappointed.

"I've counted seven... Seven lies you told him," she explains. "Unlike Tolson, I've known you for a long time. Then again, that man is well trained so something tells me he's counted more than just seven."

Tommy doesn't even try to deny it. It's the first time he realises how much he cares about Shaw's opinion. He's always respected her. She's excellent at her job and until recently she seemed to appreciate his ideas and firm convictions. Ben would teasingly call him "teacher's pet" after their unit meetings.

"I didn't lie when I denied hacking them," he replies quietly, ridiculously hoping this would be enough.

She nods and after a moment adds, "I know you'll disagree with me, detective but this mess? It's not yours."

Tommy huffs instantly irritated. He knows perfectly well she's talking about Lindy.

"Listen to me, Tommy," her voice is unexpectedly concerned. "I actually like that girl. She's a feisty little thing but we both know she's wasting her talents chasing ghosts. I don't want to see you throw your life away."

"That won't happen," he declares with a pretended certitude.

"Miller told me the same thing."

Tommy takes a deep breath and bites his lip so hard he can almost taste blood.

"Take the rest of the day off, detective," she says dismissively. "Think about what I told you."

He can't get out of the building fast enough, ignoring questioning looks from his colleagues and Yeager shouting his name. He only stops running halfway to his place. He sits on the stairs of some unknown building trying to calm himself down. He finds his phone and sends a short message to Lindy. He doesn't want to alarm her and it's not like he was suspended or arrested anyway. It's all good then, right? She texts him back almost immediately and he can't help but smile. For a moment there it truly is all good. He finally calls George and he's relieved if not a bit surprised to learn that both apartments are clean.

"But Boris seems a bit unhappy," George tells him amused. "I think he's jealous. You must be so busy with your new girlfriend that-"

"Sorry, George, I gotta go," he disconnects with a laugh.

He gets home in a slightly better mood. He takes Boris (who seems indeed to be sulking) for a longer walk and once they're back, he grabs a bottle of beer and opens his laptop. The Golden Circle. Tolson's slip earlier got him curious and if he's already deep in trouble, it won't matter if he gets a bit deeper. A simple search turns out fruitless, that is unless the FBI is investigating a popular tourist route in Iceland. He finally opts for a shower and a reheated take-out, leaving his research for later.

Lindy arrives after 8. She kisses him hello and plays with Boris for a moment before noticing open laptop on the kitchen counter.

"So are you planning holidays or just fleeing the country?" she asks pointing to the open search pages. "Either way I was hoping we'd go somewhere warmer. Puerto Rico maybe?"

He chuckles at that, planting a small kiss on top of her head.

"You know how I told you everything was fine with the FBI?"

Her posture changes instantly. She crosses her arms defensively, clearly ready for a fight.

"I didn't lose my badge so it did go better than I thought," he tries to justify his earlier message. She's not buying it. "I need to ask you something. Have you ever heard of a Golden Circle?"

Lindy looks confused, "No, just what I read on your laptop two minutes ago."

"Are you sure?" Tommy pushes a bit. "It's important. Think, maybe you heard your family mention it."

"Tommy, what's going...," the realization hits her. "By my family you mean my father. Maybe I heard my father mention it."

"His name came up," he finally admits. "That FBI guy wanted me to identify a bunch of photos. Your father's was there as well."

She nods and takes a few steps back, putting a distance between them.

"I knew it. I knew it was linked to Sara. This is my fault," she says with a heavy sigh. "It's exactly what I was trying to avoid."

"I'm not some naive kid, I made my choices," he observes dryly dreading already where this conversation is going. "You couldn't predict this would happen."

"Oh but I knew it would. It's precisely why I left, remember?" she says bitterly. She pushes the laptop away and adds quietly, "I should have never-"

"Don't," he interrupts immediately. "Don't you dare telling me this."

There's an unexpected anger in his voice and for a fleeting moment she looks startled. She quickly covers it with a typical determination written all over her face.

"I'm not going to give up," she tells him sternly.

"I'm not asking you to."

"Don't ask me to give up on Sara," she repeats.

"I'm not! You never do what I ask anyway," he exclaims, throwing his hands in frustration.

"Then what are you asking me, Tommy?"

He feels his headache reappear with a force and he closes his eyes for a second. With difficulty he's biting back the venomous words poisoning his mind. _Choose me. Choose us. Stop looking for her. I don't want to be your second choice. I don't want to feel like I'm still competing with Ben. _He can't say any of that. They're his doubts and he's the only one who can deal with them. Instead he grabs her wrist and pulls her closer to him, quickly wrapping his arms around her.

"Just stay here tonight," he whispers.


End file.
